


see i was dead when i woke up this morning (i'll be dead before the day is done)

by Lilsciencequeen



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, F/M, Minor Angst, references to death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-11 04:45:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10455282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilsciencequeen/pseuds/Lilsciencequeen
Summary: She couldn't be standing there because she was dead. She had died nearly four years ago but she was still, somehow, standing there.// a Framework FitzSimmons fanfic





	

**Author's Note:**

> Me: I'm not going to write fic until my essays are done  
> Also me: you have 200 words of one left to do, and two weeks to do the next, write a fic
> 
> And that's how we got here guys. Thanks for checking out and I hope you enjoyed. Title from Seven Devils by Florence + the Machine.

“Hi Fitz.”

It was those two words that caused him to spin around, to face her.

Jemma Simmons.

She was standing there, in his penthouse.

And she shouldn’t be.

She couldn’t be.

Not because she didn’t have clearance (well she didn’t) but because she was dead.

She had died nearly four years ago, so there was no way that she should be standing there in front of him.

“Fitz?” she asked, her voice soft and gentle, like it had always been in life. “Are you okay?” She cocked her head as if trying to puzzle something out but he shook his head, taking a step back.

“No, no. You can’t… you can’t be here.”

“I know,” she said, her voice laced with an undertone of sadness. “I know.”

“You’re dead.”

“I know.”

“Then how?” he whispered, trying to keep the fear and anger out of his voice. “How are you here?”

“This isn’t real. This world,” she shook her head as if she couldn’t believe it herself. “It’s all fake Fitz. All created by Radcliffe and AIDA.”

“Fake?”

“The Framework, and in a sense, you helped to make it. But it wasn’t supposed to be used like this, it was never to be abused like this. AIDA, Radcliffe, they were… they were corrupted by a book, the Darkhold and they kidnapped you. We’re… we’re trying to find you, rescue you.”

“Why?” he asked. “Why rescue me?”

Jemma looked as though she were about to cry. “Because this isn’t your life Fitz. This isn’t your world. You don’t belong here.”

“Then where do I belong?”

“In our world, with your friends. Your family.” A pause as if the next word was too hard to say. “With me.”

He laughed at this, and it seemed that was one step too far for her, the first of the tears starting to fall, making their way down her face, leaving tracks behind on her skin, pale as porcelain. “I love you Fitz.”

He shook his head, stepping back and making his way round the desk, leaning over it and adjusting some papers. “We never met. Jemma died before we were due to do a conference together. She died because of some stupid alien virus that…” he stopped, shaking his head because he had seen the footage of her collapsing during the lecture, hours before she died. He had seen how ill she was, just how awful she looked, and yet she was still helping, still inspiring right until the very end.

But this woman here, she wasn’t Jemma Simmons. She couldn’t be.

Leo sighed, looking back at her, he spoke. “Jemma’s dead.”

“I know that,” she set, trying to compose her voice but she didn’t seem able to stop the underlying shakiness of it. “I know that in this world, Jemma’s dead but in my world, in our world… she’s not. I’m alive and I’m safe.”

“You said you loved me.”

“I do Fitz, I love you so much. It’s why… it’s why we’re here. Why _I’m_ here. To rescue you.”

“Are we dating?”

“You want to marry me,” she replied and he felt his whole world give out from under him because in that world, the world that Jemma was calling real, it meant they were together. Him and Jemma Simmons. Not him and Aida.

“And Aida?” he asked, almost scared to know the answer. “You said she did this? Why?”

“Her programming was corrupted.”

“Programming? Aida’s not real?”

Jemma shook her head, as though feeling bad about the words that were to come from her mouth next. “She was a LMD, you and Radcliffe made her. She… she hurt so many people, and she did this. I’m sorry.”

“No,” he said, fingers now dancing along the underside of the desk trying to find the security button as Jemma took more and more steps closer to him. “Aida would never, she wouldn’t hurt anyone. She donated all that money to charity and you don’t think I know her. My own fiancée?” He shook his head adamantly this time as he finally found the button and pressed it, knowing it would be seconds until security came. “No. She wouldn’t.”

Jemma still advancing forward, did something that made him glad he did in fact call security, something that he should have done some time before now. She took his hand in her own, interlacing their fingers and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Images of something, maybe memories of another life, flashed before his eyes, so powerful that it knocked him to the floor,

And it was obvious that whatever it was, had impacted her too, sending her to her knees also. But she was smiling now, happier than he had seen her since she had entered his office. “See Fitz, that’s us, that’s our life.”

But before anyone could say anything else, the elevator doors pinged open and two security guards entered the room, hopefully to escort this woman who was so obviously an Inhuman with the power to steal faces and manipulate memories, somewhere where she could cause no more harm, no more pain.

One of them, the bigger of the two, grabbed her by the arms, pulling her up and pinning them behind her back but Jemma seemed ready for it. Once she was on her feet, she kicked back with one foot, hitting the security guard just below the knee, knocking the balance from under him. He went down, and either through skill or sheer luck, she managed to pull her arms free, and reached for the vase that was on the desk, and hit him across the head. The ceramic smashed, and he feel to the ground, unconscious.

Upon seeing this, the second of the guards was warier of her, not wanting to underestimate her but he still approached nevertheless. Jemma meanwhile reached for her next weapon of choice, a stapler left sitting on the desk, and once he was close enough, hit him around the face with it.

He cried out in pain as the metal tore through his cheek and once he was incapacitated Jemma turned to face Fitz, who in the time it had taken Jemma to take the two men down, reached in a drawer and was loading a gun.

Leo could see the cogs turn in her mind, he had spent more than enough time with geniuses in his life to know how they think. It was obvious that she was changing her plan. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a ball of paper, setting it on the desk between them. “Take that,” she said. “Find me before ten tonight at this location.”

“Why?” he asked. “Why?”

She sighed, as if irritable now. “It explains all. I’ve been in this reality too long, far too long. Daisy, she’s already left with our team. But I stayed. To find you, to make you remember. But if I don’t leave tonight, I’m going to die.”

“You’re already dead.”

She didn’t speak. “I’ll be dead tonight if you don’t meet me there. Please Fitz.” Then “I love you,” and she was gone, sprinting across the office and to the fire escape stairwell. She flung the door open, sending alarms blaring before any more security guards could come, and then she was gone. Just like that. She was gone.

Leo stared at the ball of paper lying on the middle of the desk.

***

Leo wanted to say that the rest of the day was uneventful. And in a sense, it was, nothing major happened, there were no more break ins at the labs or his office and Jemma still hadn’t been seen. The _Inhuman_ hadn’t been seen, and he knew where she was. The piece of paper told him where she would be but something within prevented him from telling the police and Hydra where she had fled to. He just couldn’t.

And for him, the rest of the day had been a concoction of migraines and images bombarding him. Memories, maybe, of a past life, of an alternative life. He felt as though he were losing himself, becoming more like that person Jemma said she knew, she loved.

It had gotten to one point during the day where he had called Hunter, asking him, begging him to go out for drinks that night.

Hunter, being Hunter, had obliged, and that’s how Fitz had gotten to where he was now. Sitting in the corner booth of some bar on High Street, about to head to the bar for another drink, thoughts of Jemma still swimming in his mind.

“Leo,” Hunter said, worry laced heavily in his voice. “Are you sure you’re okay? We can head back if you want.” Hunter knew what had happened that morning, what the Inhuman had done to him.

Leo shook his head. “No. No, I’m okay, just need another drink. I’ll buy. What do you want?”

Hunter shrugged. “Just whatever.”

Leo nodded, and pushed himself of his seat, and made his way across the room towards the bar.

“The usual?” the bartender asked but he shook his head.

“No… no…” He sighed, taking a breath. “A Scotch on the rocks and a… a love on the rocks.”

The bartender laughed. “Aida finally got you into cocktails then.”

“No….” Leo whispered again, trailing out the word. Because Aida hated cocktails. She was a rose or white wine drinker. It was Jemma who liked cocktails.

Jemma…

Realisation hit him like a ton of bricks.

Of course he knew Jemma Simmons.

Jemma. The woman that he had fallen in love with when he was sixteen.

The woman who had been beside him the whole damn time.

The woman that he loved.

The woman that he wanted to marry.

How could he have forgotten her?

He checked his watch, hoping, praying that he still had time. He was going to cut it close to the deadline, according to the letter but if he tried, he could make it, he would make it.

“$18,” the bartender said, and Leo, no Fitz. That was what he went by, that was his name. Fitz. He passed over a twenty, and muttered keep the change. And once his back was turned, Fitz headed out of the bar, pushing past people who gathered there, including two young fans who wanted a photograph. He muttered an apology and then he was out in the cold April air. He composed himself for a moment, and then he ran.

He ran and he ran and he didn’t stop running.

He had to make it there in time.

He just had to.

Jemma, she couldn’t die. Not now, not after all they had been through.

So he ran. He ran even though his lungs felt like they were on fire, about to explode due to the lack of oxygen, and his muscles burning, burning more than they had ever burnt in his life until finally he made it to the house.

“Jems!” he called out, banging on the front door.

No answer. He pushed it open, entering the house and called out her name again. “Jems!”

Still no reply.

Slowly, he crept through the house, all lights off, until he found one of the sitting rooms, door slightly ajar and a low light coming from it.

He pushed the door open.

**Author's Note:**

> So that ending is really open. Feel free to comment what you thought or check me out on Instgram; agentsofsuperwholocked.


End file.
